


Give it up

by scavengerscum



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: (it won't last), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, First Time, M/M, Sharing a Bed, it's basically a roadtrip au but the context is vague oops, kylo isn't angry for once, reluctant soulmates tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 07:14:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8362594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scavengerscum/pseuds/scavengerscum
Summary: Hux will never, ever, not in a million years share a dingy motel bed with Kylo. Not even if he's freezing cold and wrapped in a blanket that smells of whisky.  Because he hates Kylo, of course.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time actually posting fanfic and I'm a bit (a lot) nervous so any feedback would be much appreciated! I've been trying to edit this with cold-induced brain fuzz so it may not be the best but it'll have to do ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

“I am not sharing a bed with you.” Hux scowls and folds his arms. “In fact, I would rather jump out of that window than share a bed with you.”

Kylo just looks at him, eyes gleaming in the dim light. Hux is the one to finally glance away, huffing out a sigh and dropping his bag to the floor. There is a brief silence, the hazy, uncertain kind that seems to be leading nowhere. Then Hux begins to rifle through his things and Kylo flops backwards onto the bed, stares at the ceiling.

“You don’t always have to be so disagreeable”, Kylo says. It comes out like a whine, half exasperated and half wounded-puppy.

Hux bites back a sharp retort. It’s been a long day, and Kylo’s been better than usual – or, at least, not quite so infuriating. But he still has to grit his teeth, still has to focus and breathe deep and relax his clenched fists so he doesn’t lash out at something – or someone. It’s been a long year, full stop, and being around Kylo has never done Hux much good.

“Hux?” There’s a hint of something alarmingly close to concern in Kylo’s voice, made husky from a recent cold and probably not enough fluids.

“Get something to drink, Ren.” Hux sounds, to his irritation, exhausted. He is completely taken aback when Kylo, after only a few seconds of hesitation, slides off the bed and goes to run himself a glass of water. Water, not coffee or whisky or some chemical laden energy drink to force himself into wakefulness on the nights when Hux collapses and sleeps for fifteen hours straight in the passenger seat. Hux has lectured Kylo time and time again about drinking water, but not until now has his hassling appeared to have any effect, if the mess of empty cans and polystyrene cups in the back of the car is anything to go by. Strange.

Hux unrolls a foam mat after staring at the bed nostalgically for a few seconds. He hasn’t slept in a proper bed, however dingy, for… a month? Two months? They were too busy, too driven, but now… well, he doesn’t want to think about that. He doesn’t really want to think about anything. He bunches up some dirty clothes for a pillow, rummages some more until he finds the musty blanket at the bottom of his bag. It’s been soaked in spilt alcohol more than once, washed only perfunctorily; the sour-sharp scent lingers on it like the memories linger on Hux’s mind.

Kylo sprawls out on the bed again, all long limbs and tousled hair that hasn’t been brushed in weeks. He’s humming now, one of the songs he used to play too loud when they first embarked on their assignment. One of the songs that used to drive Hux crazy.                     

The silence becomes heavier, in spite of Kylo’s humming. It’s a blanket, a protection – if they don’t talk then they’re safe, none of it really happened. The sickening details become bright fragments of imagination with no root in reality, an unsettling dream that will be forgotten as the day wears on and a sense of normality returns. But suddenly Hux wants to speak. He doesn’t, of course. But he wants to, and he wonders what has changed since it all begun. Kylo’s voice fades to a faint murmur that creeps across the old carpet to Hux’s ears and echoes, uncomfortably, more a part of the past than the present. It’s a puzzle piece that doesn’t fit in with _here_ and _now_. Hux grabs his wash bag and rises, slips into the bathroom, closes the door.

His reflection in the grimy mirror is, in all honesty, horrific. There was a time when he was immaculately presented, a model student, _his father’s pride and joy_. A long time ago. Now his hair hangs in matted clumps around his face, straggly wisps escaping in front of his ears and across his forehead. His features look sunken, sharp, his skin bleached of any colour. It’s unsettling, so he brushes his teeth hard enough to hurt and tries not to think.

When he leaves the bathroom, Kylo is still lying fully clothed on the bed. “Are you planning on actually sleeping?” Hux asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Hm?” Kylo sounds genuinely surprised. “Oh. Right. Yeah.”

Hux stares at him for a moment longer, then shrugs and goes to lie down. “Turn off the light when you’re done staring at the ceiling.”

Kylo tilts his head to look at Hux, scowling slightly. But a moment later he relaxes, sits up, tugs off his shirt in one smooth motion. Sometimes, Hux thinks, he does it just to show off – because, of course, Kylo knows he’s something else. He moves like a cat, even as he-

Hux decides to turn away from the bed.

It’s not long before the light is flicked off, bathing the room in still, lovely darkness. There’s the sound of a television from another room and somebody talking on the phone, but it’s well past midnight so there’s none of the usual motel racket. Hux thanks God, who he doesn’t believe in, and closes his eyes.

Naturally, sleep doesn’t come.

The room is too cold, the blanket paper-thin and sugar sticky; it makes Hux’s skin crawl. He didn’t undress properly – he hasn’t for weeks now, not at nighttime – and for the first time in a long time he wishes for more comfortable clothes rather than anything else. Everything seems to dig in, it clings too much but doesn’t keep him warm, the material makes him want to tear at his skin.

And, of course, he can hear Kylo’s erratic breathing from bare feet away. Maybe it’s the stillness of the room, unfamiliar after months of parking up by the road and drifting off to the roar of passing cars. He even slept reasonably well while Kylo drove and sung loudly to bad music. Suddenly, there is not nearly enough to distract him from everything. His life – what he’s doing, who he is – is something he prefers not to think about. The TV is turned off, the phone conversation long finished. The silence pours in, filling the gaps and amplifying the feeling of them both, the strange awareness. Nothing is as it should be.

The cold sets in. Hux tries not to shiver, tries to force himself into that blissfully numb state of mind he used to slip into so easily, but now it’s like trying to force himself into an ice wall. There’s too much of everything that there never used to be. A long shudder wracks his body, setting his teeth chattering, and once it starts it doesn’t stop.

“Hux?” Kylo’s voice is startling in the darkness, a dull whisper that reverberates through the air.

“Stop saying my name like that”, Hux snaps. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

“Why aren’t you?”

“Just… goddamn it Kylo, _stop_.” Hux’s voice sounds desperate even to his own ears.

“I know you’re cold.”

“Why do you _care_?” Hux bites out the question more harshly than he intended. Which is probably a good thing.

“Why shouldn’t I? All I’m saying is-”

“I am _not_ sharing a bed with you.”

“You’re going to stay awake all night if you try to sleep down there."

Hux misses a beat before replying. “I won’t be able to sleep _anywhere_ , that’s not-”

“Get over yourself”, Kylo hisses, but there’s a smile in his voice. Hux ignores the jolt in his stomach.

“I’ve never shared a bed in my life.”

“You’ve never had to choose between a hard floor and sharing a bed in your life.”

Hux grits his teeth. “You are never going to mention this. Not to Snoke, not to Phasma, not to anyone.”

“Just get off the floor, for God’s sake.”

After a brief and intense mental debate Hux obliges, because perhaps it shouldn’t matter so much. The fact that he’s getting colder by the second doesn’t help to dissuade him. So he shoves down his urge to get far, far away and stumbles to his feet, throwing off the blanket and feeling his way over to the side of the bed Kylo isn’t currently occupying. The problem is, Kylo is actually occupying most of the bed.

“Move over.”

Kylo shifts sideways, surprisingly. The bed is warm from the heat of him. Hux sinks into the uneven mattress as gratefully as if it were his own back home, tries not to move too much.

“So why couldn’t you sleep?” Hux asks.

Kylo is silent. The light of the streetlamps and the full, distant moon filtering through the gauzy curtains catches his hair, a glimpse of silver in the black of the night. Hux wishes he hadn’t spoken.

“That doesn’t matter”, Kylo finally replies.

“It does.” Hux isn’t sure why he says it, just like he’s not sure if anything that’s happening is actually happening or if it’s just some dream-haze that feels a little too much like reality.

“You don’t need to know everything”, Kylo says, turning towards him, too close. Goddammit, Hux can _feel_ his smile again, feel it like he feels the heat radiating off Kylo.

“What happened to staying on opposite sides of the bed?”

“I am on the opposite side of the bed.”

“You just rolled at least a foot closer to me.”

Kylo huffs out something that could be a laugh. “Are you always going to be like this?”

“Yes.”

Hux can sense Kylo considering his reply.

“You don’t have to be.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Have you forgotten everything?” Hux whisper-hisses into the darkness. If only he had the courage to scream it.

“No”, Kylo says. “Not at all.”

“We’re not friends. We’re not anything.”

“I think you know that’s not true.”

“What are we, then?”

“Whatever we want to be”, Kylo whispers. He’s closer. “I’ll be anything you want me to be. But let me be something.”

Hux lets out a shuddering breath, another shiver passing through his body that has nothing to do with the cold. He should be surprised, but he isn’t.

“Please, Hux”, Kylo murmurs, ever so soft. “The silence is too much. I need you, and _you need me_.”

Hux lets himself focus on Kylo’s face, faintly outlined in the dim, silvery light. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes. “I know”, he replies.

“ _Please_.”

Hux heart judders in his chest. He hates it. He hates that he doesn’t know what this is.

“Tell me exactly what you want”, Hux says. He tries to sound detached, but it’s not good enough.

“I think you already know.”

Hux sighs. “Maybe I don’t want to know, Ren. Maybe I’m regretting everything that’s happened and I want to leave and never see your face again. Maybe I want to slit Snoke’s throat for getting us into this mess. Maybe I’m just really goddamn tired and I don’t want to think about anything.”

“I could help you forget. For a while.”

 _Fuck_.

Hux laughs, drags his gaze away from the curve of Kylo’s cheek. “Really? It’s not that easy.”

“Let me. _Please_ , Hux.”

He’s so goddamn persistent, so eager and pliant and Hux really doesn’t know what he’s doing anymore. Kylo’s reaching out, reaching for Hux’s… hair? He touches the wayward lock that hangs in front of Hux’s right ear, pauses, moves those long fingers down to the line of Hux’s jaw. Pauses again, fingers warm against Hux’s skin. It’s a little too much already.

“Ren”, Hux says. “Ren.” He doesn’t know what else to say. Maybe there isn’t anything else to be said.

Kylo has always been a bombshell, fuming like a volcano with all that bottled-up rage. He’s unreliable, erratic, annoying as _hell_. But when he drags his fingers across Hux’s jawline and then to his lips, it’s soft and steady and almost unbearable because this can’t last. But Hux doesn’t move away, doesn’t flinch from the touch.

He can hear Kylo’s breathing again, sharp and irregular in spite of his steady movements. Kylo’s fingers slide away and Hux feels their absence, feels the cold bleed back into his skin. Then there is a new warmth; soft, breathy, Kylo is trailing open-mouthed kisses all over Hux’s neck and jaw, the heat of his breath ghosting across Hux’s skin and seeping into it like liquid fire. He can feel the flush spreading over his cheeks and is grateful for the darkness. When Kylo finally moves to Hux’s mouth, Hux’s heart is a panicked wingbeat in his heaving chest, a creature thrashing wildly against his ribcage. The light touching of their lips lingers, freezing time until Kylo presses harder, insistent, and Hux’s mouth opens to the taste of him, sugar and something bitter-harsh like charcoal.

 _It’s only another way to forget_ , he tells himself when Kylo slides a hand to his hipbone, fingernails digging in a little too hard.

               

 

               

               

 


End file.
